Take a Stab at It
by Dark Angel Bakura
Summary: While being followed by a seemingly harmless alien ship, Malcolm gets strange orders. When he follows them, he gets captured by the aliens and held for a ransom. Malcolm/Hoshi prevalent. Non-Yaoi, third person. Rated T for safety. NEWLY EDITED.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks to Seacock and LoyaulteMeLie, who alerted me to an uploading glitch in this story. Thank you, and please let me know if there are any others!**

**Also, thanks to Frakeme, who provided me with some outside opinion and a bit of a kick in the butt, as well as Cap'n Frances, who contributed to that kick as well. Due to their critique, I have completely changed the story. I added two alien PoV chapters before the newly edited story to explain the confusing points. **

**So if you read this story before, you might want to re read it, 'cause it'll be a bit different than you remember.**

**P.s. I'm unsure as to whether Reed likes the transporter or not. I thought I remembered him liking it, but more and more, I think I have him mixed up with Mayweather, since I mixed their names up in the early episodes. If anyone know, then please let me know!**

* * *

Captain Pak glanced up from the scans his science officer had just handed him. "And you believe that ship carries the necessary supplies?" He asked sharply, raking his eyes up and down the thin sliver of a Zokut that was his science officer.

Donzu wisely held his tongue, waiting for his captain to give him permission to speak. The captain nodded appreciatively and handed back the report. "You may speak." He said. Donzu nodded gratefully.

"I do, sir. While they do have adequate weapons, they are registered as an exploration vehicle." The science officer said, talking energetically.

The captain nodded, and the science officer shut up instantly, stiffening. "How long until this ship reaches the "exploration vehicle" ? Speak." Pak said to the pilot.

"1.3 kotul, at current speed." The pilot replied quickly.

Pak nodded and lounged back in his throne. "Go faster."

The pilot didn't bother to protest that they were already going too fast. The last pilot had done so, and his blood was still all over the chair.

Undoing the safety regulations, the pliot sped up the ship as fast as possible without destroying the weapons beyond repair, sending a mental prayer to their god of luck that Jamat's engines were as well kept as he claimed.

Apparently, they were, since the warp seven capable spaceship raced across the cosmos at a slightly turbulent warp 8.2.

Pak nodded approval and stretched his four arms. "Revised time? Speak."

The pilot had already crunched the number. "0.6 kotul." She saw the captain considering speeding up and prayed he didn't give that order. Any farther, and the engines would explode. No doubt Jamat would be blamed for the ship's failure...

"Hold steady and set an intercept course for the ee-ar-than ship." The captain said, folding his arms in front of each other.

Donzu cringed at captain Pak's mangling of the word, but didn't dare to correct his captain. Instead, he walked to his station and gathered the weapon and defensive specs of the _human_ ship. Only special torpedoes and phase cannons? There would be no contest between their ships, if things came to a firefight.

He handed the specs to the weapons officer and resumed the menial tasks a Zokut science officer was given. With two hands, he scanned for any anomalies. With the other two, he tried to complete a Melorkian puzzle.

* * *

The 0.6 kotul raced by quickly, and before she knew it, a light alerted the weapons officer that a warp trail had been detected. She gave the low whistle that told the captain she had something important to say. The captain nodded at her. "You may speak."

"The ee-ar-than ship is dead ahead." She mentally cringed at her mispronunciation of the human planet, but didn't dare to say anything different from what her captain had said. The humiliation it would cause him...

"The damage cloak is engaged?" Captain Pak asked.

The weapons officer nodded, trying to keep smug pride off her face. The damage cloak had been her idea and had only taken a kotul or two to reprogram their cloaking device. Instead of seeing an empirical-class spaceship, eyes and sensors would see a slightly crippled cargo freighter riding on their tailwind.

"Then let us prepare: Secretly tap into their Bridge communications, learn their idioms and speech patters. Within the half-kotul." Pak ordered, disappearing into his captain's lounge.

When the metallic lounge doors hissed closed, the Bridge officers gave sighs of relief and started chatting with each other. Donzu finally completed the Melorkian puzzle with some help from Ekta, the pilot.

They struck up a conversation about whether or not the medical supplies would help cure the bout of Andronesian encephalitis that had swept their ship. "I heard the humans devised a cure!" Etka protested. Donzu snorted and reset the Melorkian puzzle.

"It's definitely a _human_ cure, but will it work on us?" He asked pointedly. Ekta seemed about to reply when the weapons officer cut in crossly.

"Will you shut up? I'm trying to listen!" Magothi hissed, a pair of headphones over her ears. Ekta stuck her tongue out.

"I thought you were already fluent in human." She said. Magothi rolled her eyes.

"The latest textbook on Human _English_ was published eighty-six years ago. Everything, the idioms, the colloquialisms, _everything _ has changed, and it's more complex than our own language: different tenses, different subjects, so forgive me if I need to brush up on a few words!" She yelled.

Donzu and Ekta stared at her, fidgeting in their seats before Magothi resumed chanting alien words.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry this is mostly Author Notes. The whole alien point of view is too long, and this was the best place to split it. Sorry. The next chapter will be longer!**

**P.s. I tried to model the Zokut culture after Chinese and Klingon. How do you feel I did?**

**And s****ince this is kinda important to understanding the story in the future:**

**1 kotul= 2.4 hours.**

**Milli- kotul = 8.64 seconds**

**Centi-kotul= 1.4 minutes**

**Jia= one meter.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm still wondering if should even have split up the chapter. It seemed too long by itself, but there doesn't seem to be a good stopping point. What're your thoughts?**

* * *

Precisely a half-kotul later, Captain Pak reentered the bridge. The three Bridge officers stood silently, bowed, and then returned to their tasks.

"Have you completed your task?" Pak asked imperiously. Magothi gave a vigorous nod. "And you have a good potential hostage?" He asked Donzu, who also nodded. There was an awkward pause when Donzu waited for Pak to allow him to reply. "Then tell me."

Donzu nodded and tapped a few buttons on his four consoles. A profile of a pinkish-brown skinned alien with unusually short, brown hair popped up on Donzu's scanner, and he handed the stolen Starfleet information to the captain.

"His name is "Malcolm Reed"." Donzu stumbled over the pronunciation of a human name, but continued as if he didn't. "He's currently the only officer wit transporter access alone." Donzu said.

Pak nodded and handed the scans to Magothi, who looked then over and back at Pak. He gave a one-sided smirk. "Read his profile. Are you able to mimic the captain's voice. Speak."

Magothi nodded. "I'll have this done in a decakotul." She said, flicking through his Starfleet profile. Pak nodded.

"One decakotul. Then we begin." Pak commanded, sitting back in his throne.

Magothi nodded and flicked through the scan, eyes darting back and forth along the backlit screen. This alien's military biography was painfully simple: name, species, birth date, age, small personality blurb, and list of achievements.

The alien's personality seemed rather vapid, and his face wasn't particularly interesting, by human standards. Then she got to his achievements, and her eyes widened ever so slightly. With the sheer number of commendations and awards he received over the years, she was surprised that he didn't command his own ship.

"Have you finished?" Pak demanded. Magothi nodded, shaking herself out of "Malcolm Reed"'s life and cleared her throat, nodding slowly. "Then proceed."

Licking her lips, Magothi tapped a few buttons on her comm. And opened a stealth channel to Malcolm's quarters, hidden in subspace static. "Archer to Lieutenant Reed." She hoped that she had captured Archer's inflections.

There was a small pause before Reed replied. Magothi's heart plummeted when she realized her quarry had an accent she couldn't quite identify. Fortunately, she managed to understand a few words (she hoped). She bit her lip, praying she had understood the English words "Alien" and "Aggressive" and that she correctly deduced what he said.

She laughed in Archer's voice. "No, no. Hoshi established communications with them. Their language is remarkably similar to English..." She trailed off, glancing at Pak to make sure her last-second addition was okay. After all, Malcolm needed a reason to _not_ bring the Enterprise translator, Hoshi.

Pak nodded, and she continued quickly. "Their weapons and engines were damaged in a random hostile alien attack. They're asking for our help."

From Reed's reply, Magothi caught "Aye. Commander Tucker take the shuttlepod?" She sighed in relief, starting to understand Reed's accent. Until she realized she had to come up with a convincing lie as to why he had to take the transporter. _Alone_.

"Actually, no. These aliens are rather..." Magothi's heart rate skyrocketed as she tried to remember the right word. "xenophobic." She prayed even harder that she hadn't chosen the wrong one. Reed didn't comment, so Magothi continued instructing Reed how to get into their ship. "Good luck, Lieutenant. Archer out."

Magothi ended communications and took off the headphones setting them down with a sigh. She turned to Pak to await orders.

"Was it successful?" Pak asked. Magothi nodded, once. "Then bring him here." Magothi nodded, stood, bowed, and quickly left, readying the knife in her hand.

She hurried down the hallway, tearing down the corridors before the human accidentally interrupted her perfectly calibrated system. Slipping through the armory doors like a ghost, she peered around the edge of the calibration mechanism and spotted the human Reed peering at _her_ phase cannon. Then he committed the gravest of errors and actually opened its hatch.

Her bare feet padded across the floor quickly, inaudible to even her own ears. Her knife flashed up and around just as Reed looked around in confusion. The second the cold metal touched his delicate skin, he stiffened and raised his hands quickly. Magothi vaguely recognized it as a signal of surrender.

"Lower your weapon." He said, twisting around slightly to get a look and her. Magothi gripped the knife tighter. "My captain said he contacted you. You need a person to fix your weapons." Reed waggled some sort of human technology.

Magothi briefly considered replying in English, but didn't want to make her captain seem incompetent. "Be quiet! You're not allowed to be here!" She growled in her own language. She whirled Reed around to face the door and shoved him through it.

Reed mumbled something under his breath as she pushed him through a few corridors before he stopped short with an odd, rasping sound and body jerk. Magothi recognized this as a human tendency called a "sneeze". Reed sneezed again. The third time he sneezed, the he lashed out with an elbow and stuffed it in her stomach.

She groaned and loosened her grip on the knife. Reed knocked her arm out of the way and darted to the side. His eyes widened at her unhumanoid appearance but regained his composure, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet. "What do you want?" He asked, eyeing her carefully. His hand hovered close to his phaser.

Magothi didn't respond, instead grabbing her own phaser and firing it before Reed had a chance to blink. He collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Magothi reholstered her phaser and dragged the human down a few corridors and up to the Bridge.

She pressed the comm button. "Magothi here." She said. "I have the scapegoat."

The doors whooshed open, and she dragged Reed towards the captain, holding him with two hands, a third hand gripping her knife, and using the fourth to shut the door behind her. "Bring him here." Pak commanded, pointing a couple jias in front of his throne. Magothi obeyed, Reed's weight starting to tax her strength. She really hoped he would wake up soon. "Contact the ee-ar-than ship."

Magothi nodded and used her free hand to tap a few buttons on the communications station. After less than a milli-kotul, the human captain's face appeared on the viewscreen. He seemed about to speak, then he noticed Magothi holding Reed.

"Can I ask you what you're doing with my tactical officer?" Archer asked, leaning back in his chair slightly. Then he noticed the knife clenched in Magothi's hand, poised near Reed's body. "And may I ask why he's being held at knifepoint?"

Pak's knowledge of English was limited, but he knew alien psychology and had little doubt what Archer just asked. "He was destroying our weapons. According to our law, he is out prisoner." He replied in his own language, taking pleasure in the confusion on the human captain's face.

Suddenly, Reed stirred slightly. He groaned and rubbed his chest where the phaser had hit him. Magothi hauled him close and pressed the knife against his throat. Reed took a sharp intake of breath and glanced around, no doubt formulating an escape plan. Then he looked at the viewscreen, and his eyes widened.

"Captain? What's going on?" He asked.

Archer shook his head. "We're trying to communicate with the aliens. Hoshi?" Archer glanced at Hoshi, who nodded.

"I think I got it, sir." She turned to the viewscreen and locked eyes with Malcolm with a sad smile. Magothi looked from the translator to Reed, trying to decipher the look the translator was giving her captive.

" Why is my tactical officer being held at knifepoint?" Archer asked, fury poorly hidden in his voice. Magothi almost snorted at the human translation of "tactical officer". Pak wouldn't be so keen to release the "one who uses trickery and cleverness".

Pak showed minor surprise over the human's seemingly uncanny ability to speak Zokas. "He was destroying our weapons. According to the law, he is our prisoner." He walked in front of Magothi and her captive, gesturing towards the weapons.

Reed scoffed, but Pak made no sign that he heard.

"But we are not a war-mongering race. We would be willing to trade your "tactical officer" for a generous amount of food and medical supplies." Magothi hissed ever so slightly. If Pak was asking for food as well, he _really_ didn't want to give up Reed.

Suddenly, Reed growled, "Don't do it captain-" Out of habit, Magothi slammed the knife hilt into the side of Reed's face next to his eye. She learned a few days ago that that spot, called a "temple", was a weak spot on humans.

Reed went crashing into her weapons console, clutching to it as if his life depended on it. Magothi dragged him to his feet and pressed the knife against his throat, even harder than before. She took a deep breath, wondering why she felt pangs of remorse.

Archer tried to appease Pak, pleading to work something out. Pak glanced at Magothi and nodded. As per their plan, She retracted the knife from Reed's throat and stepped to his side, glancing at him cautiously. He did the same with her.

"I'm definitely sure we can work something out. Magothi?"

Quick as thought, Magothi leapt forward and buried her knife in Malcolm's side. She jerked the knife out and stepped back as he fell to his knees.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered in English as he fell unconscious to the ground.

Pak grinned at Malcolm's coworkers watched in shock. Pak laughed and poked Malcolm with a toe. "Your "tactical officer" needs your medical attention, and I need medical supplies and food. When shall we trade?" He asked confidently.

Archer asked for a few "minutes", a human time division. Luckily, the human translator successfully translated the phrase into "centi-kotul". Pak looked from Archer to Malcolm then back again. "You might want to hurry. I'm not sure how many minutes your "tactical officer" has left." Pak tapped a button on Magothi's comm panel, successfully ending communications.

Pak turned to his crew. "Prepare to board the ship. Donzu, you're with me." Donzu's heart dropped, but he nodded and stood next to Pak. "Magothi? Your three best men." Magothi was about to demand that she be included, but realized Pak was leaving the ship in her hands, and nodded.

Ten milli-kotul later, Magothi was left on the Bridge alone with Ekta, who had long ago started playing a handheld game. Magothi peered over her shoulder. "Did you get that from Melork last week?" She asked. Ekta seemed surprised that someone had noticed she wasn't working, but shrugged it off with a nod. Magothi grinned slightly. "How far have you gotten on that thing?" She asked curiously.

Ekta shrugged. "I'm past the part where the Andorian-"

Suddenly, Pak and his away team transported back. Pak whirled on Magothi. "Target their warp reactor!" He half-screamed. Magothi obeyed, wondering how the humans had offended him. "Communications." He ordered. Again, Magothi obeyed quickly and without question.

Ekta put away her game and watched as Archer appeared on their viewscreen. Pak walked up to it. "We have weapons locked on your warp reactor. Give us supplies, or we will destroy your ship." He growled.

Archer gave an order, and four large crates appeared in front of Pak. His away team ripped into them eagerly, showing packs of food and medical supplies. "Ekta!" Pak growled.

She read his emotions and quickly jumped into warp. Magothi's officers carried the carets to cargo bay, and Donzu and Pak resumed their stations. No one spoke of the human vessel again.

* * *

**A/N: Does this seem a bit sudden? I feel like they're an abrupt culture, and if you would prefer a bit more of an ending, I'm just not sure how to do it. So unless you REALLY think that this ending sucks, then just know that I'M TAKING ARTISTIC LICENSE. PLEASE DO NOT KILL ME. ;D**

**P.s. Do you think this belongs in the beginning? I felt it would be a bit awkward at the end or somewhere in the middle, but it's also kinda awkward in the beginning...**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed last chapter and continue to enjoy!**

* * *

"Archer to Lieutenant Reed." The comm by the head of Malcolm Reed's bed squawked, jolting Malcolm out of a semi-peaceful sleep. He rubbed his eyes with a groan before fumbling blindly for the comm.

"Reed here, sir. Has the alien ship made any aggressive maneuvers?" He asked worriedly, wondering if he really should have taken a rest. He had assumed that if the alien ship hadn't made any aggressive moves for a few hours, and he was so exhausted from recalibrating the spatial torpedoes, that a rest would do him good. But if the captain needed him-

"No, no." Archer laughed. "Hoshi established communications with our little shadow. Their language is remarkably similar to English..." He marveled at the wonders of the universe before catching himself. "Their weapons and engines were damaged in a random hostile alien attack. They're asking for repair help."

Malcolm ran a hand through his hair and pressed the comm button. "Aye, sir. Shall Commander Tucker and I take the shuttlepod? He asked, jamming his stockinged feet into his boots and zipping his jumpsuit up to his chin.

"Actually, no. The aliens are rather...xenophobic, and they only want one of our men on their ship at a time, and their docking station took such heavy damage that the only way onto their ship is by the transporter. Now, normally, I'd be wary about letting my crewmen transport aboard an alien ship alone, but they have assured me that you will be safe. Are you willing to take the leap of faith, Lieutenant?" Archer asked. Malcolm could almost see him leaning confidently into his captain's chair.

"Aye, sir. I'll take any chance I can to use the transporter." He said wryly, rushing to grab his repair kit from the locker in his room.

Archer laughed. "Well, I'm glad. I'll have to transmit the coordinates to you manually. Do you have a writing utensil handy?" He asked. Malcolm scrambled for the closest pencil and piece of paper he could find.

"Ready, sir." Malcolm said, jotting down the coordinates and parroting them back. And slinging the duffel bag over one shoulder. "Wish me luck." He sighed.

There was a chuckle on the other end and Archer replied, "Good luck, Lieutenant. Archer out.

Malcolm hurried out of his room and to the transporter. Suppressing a smile, he punched in the coordinates, set the delayed start, and stepped into the transport beam, relishing the feeling of his subatomic particles being torn apart and then perfectly reconstructed.

Suddenly, he was inside the middle of the alien spaceship. The light was tinted purply-red, shining off reflective structural beams made of some unknown metal. He was about to scan it to discover its composition when he saw the weapons system.

Dozens of phase cannons, torpedoes, and unidentifiable weapons lined the outside of a large, circular room. He whistled to himself. Any ship that could so thoroughly pummel such a well-armed ship could likely annihilate Enterprise without even trying...

He cleared his throat and heaved his duffel bag next to the closest phase cannon. Fishing out his mechanical scanner, her pressed a few buttons. "Now, what's your configuration?" He asked it, pulling the hatch off the top and tracing a finger down its innards. "Well, you're not broken. I don't-"

He was cut off by a sharp object at his throat. Stiffening, his hands shot up in the air. "Lower your weapons." He said calmly, trying to get a glimpse of his captor's face. "My captain said that you needed someone to fix your weapons." He waggled the hand holding the scanner.

"Mak thyunt! Natha maku zepul polut mak leth!" The knife was pressed against his throat, and a set of arms gripped his shoulders, marching him towards and through a set of automatic doors, knife still at his throat.

"English-like language my eye." Malcolm grumbled as he was forced through several corridors, much like the armory, with magenta light and reflective surfaces.

Something in his gut told him that something was wrong. He had to get the knife off his throat, but how? The answer came with a sudden sneeze that racked his body, no doubt a remnant from the virus he caught from the case of plasma coolant. He got an idea and faked a second sneeze. On the third sneeze, he slammed his elbow into his captor's stomach, getting a good look and him for the first time.

...Or her.

A female with green-glowing skin and four arms bursting insect-like from her back stood in front of him, rubbing her stomach. Strange appendices burst from her biceps like a medieval gauntlets, and her face didn't even look human. But Malcolm took the information into stride. "What do you want?" He asked carefully, preparing to take the offensive.

The female stared at him. Before he could react, she had whipped out a phaser. He felt a force slam into his chest and saw no more.

* * *

Malcolm groaned slightly. He felt like he was just kicked by a horse. Or worse. Suddenly, he felt himself being hauled to his feet, and a sharp object was shoved against his throat. All at once, his memory flooded back to him, and he glanced around, preparing an escape plan before his eyes fell on Captain Archer.

"Captain? What's going on?" He asked. Had the aliens betrayed them? It wouldn't be the first time.

"We're trying to communicate with the aliens. Hoshi?"

Archer turned to Hoshi, who nodded. "I think I got it sir." She said, turning to the view screen and locking eyes sadly with Malcolm. Archer nodded back and walked slowly towards the viewscreen.

"Why is my tactical officer being held at knifepoint?" He asked, barely concealing his anger and worry.

"He was destroying our weapons. According to the law, he is our prisoner." The four-armed captain said, gliding in front of Malcolm and gesturing in the direction Malcolm assumed was towards the weapons.

"Destroy your weapons?" Malcolm scoffed, glaring at the alien captain, who didn't acknowledge that Malcolm had spoken. Archer's eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"But we are not a war-mongering race." The alien captain said graciously. "We would be willing to trade your "tactical officer" for a generous amount of food and medical supplies."

Malcolm growled. "Don't do it captain-" Malcolm was cut off by a sharp pain in his temple, knocking him sideways. He stumbled into one of the ships' stations and clung to it until his world steadied. He was jerked to his feet, and the knife was jammed against his throat, pressing against his jugular.

"Calm down." Archer said, suppressing the panic in his voice when he saw the knife draw blood. He locked eyes with the alien captain before continuing, "Look, I'm not sure what's going on here, but I hope we can work something out."

The alien captain glanced at Malcolm's captor and nodded. The knife was withdrawn from his neck, and the captor took a few steps back, shifting towards Malcolm's side. They watched each other out of the corner of their eyes. "I'm definitely sure we can work something out." The alien captain said. "Magothi?"

Malcolm caught a whirr of movement out of the corner of his eye and only had enough time to blink before an excrutiating, burning sensation tore through his side. He clapped a hand over the wound and fell uncertainly to his knees, breathing heavily. Pain shot through his side, raced up his spine, and exploded in his brain. He vaguely heard cries of outrage and even a faint English, "I'm so sorry." as his world faded to black and rushed up to meet him.

* * *

**A/N: Is it nerdy that I actually created a language for these aliens?**

**"Mak" is their "be" verb. Adding a "u" to it is the conjugation in the singular form. Adding "ut" makes it for plural subjects**

**"Natha" is their subject. He, she, and you. Adding a "t" makes it plural. We, us.**

**To make a participle, they add "chunto" to the end of the unconjugated verb,**

**...explaining everything will take too long, so I'll just translate everything.**

**"Mak thyunt! Natha maku zepul polut mak leth" - lit. Be silent! You are allowed not to be here.**

**"Nathat makut leth..." - lit. We are here...**

**"Magothi leth. Nathat cuzalaut skaki!" - lit. Magothi (name) here. We found scapegoat.**

**"Leth!" - lit. Here!**

**"Natha thenchuto akubuch. Zchtoka, natha maku nuthut purizo. Mackthu natha, notho bencho thenchuto polut." - lit. He was destroying weapons. According to our law (phrase=Zchtoka), he is our prisoner. Surrender him, your ship destroyed not.**

**I'm kind of super proud of that.**

**Read and review, please? =w=?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed last chapter and continue to enjoy!**

* * *

The bridge officers watched in gape-mouthed horror as Malcolm fell to the floor, clutching the hole in his side in agony. Archer gripped his armrests with white knuckles, working to unclench his jaw but failing.

The alien captain gave a clicking laugh and poked Malcolm with a boney but well-groomed toe. "Your "tactical officer" needs your medical attention, and I need food and medical supplies. When shall we trade?" He asked.

"We'll need a few minutes to get everything ready," Archer said levelly. The alien captain narrowed his gaze then turned it towards Malcolm. "You might want to hurry. I'm not sure how many minutes your "tactical officer" has left." The viewscreen shut off, showing only the alien ship in the middle of open space.

Archer pressed a button on his armrest. "Archer to Chef." He sighed. The bridge crew looked at him expectantly.

"What do you want?" Chef demanded angrily. "It's lunchtime, I don't have the time!" In the background, voices called out to each other, and knives sliced evenly trough food, clacking against polycarbonate cutting boards. Archer gave a breathy laugh.

"This is an order. Prepare two boxes of protein packs. Have them ready on my signal." Archer replied. Chef sighed and ended communication. Then Archer contacted Phlox and told the doctor to prepare a few basic medical kits, ordering both to be loaded on the transporter. T'Pol looked at him out of the corner of her eye but said nothing.

Archer caught her glance and held it, "Something you'd like to say, Subcommander?" He asked.

T'Pol raised an eyebrow."It would be illogical to conclude that the aliens will release Lieutenant Reed merely because we give them some food packs and bandages."

Archer nodded. "Hoshi, hail them. Visual, if possible." He said, standing with his hands formally clasped behind his back.

Hoshi tapped a few keys at her station nervously, heart pounding with each bleep of her keys. A little light at the top right of her vision showed that the alien ship was responding. With fleeting fingers, she transferred the image to the viewscreen.

Before the alien captain had a chance to blink, Archer hissed, "Transfer our tactical officer to sick bay. Then we will give you your-"

Suddenly, the aliens teleported onto the bridge, each one standing next to one of the stations. The captain stood in front of Archer, dragging a semiconscious Malcolm Reed. The captain shoved Malcolm forward a few steps, and Malcolm collapsed under his own weight.

Archer pressed the comm button on his armrest. "Phlox to the bridge. Medical emergency."

The alien captain gave a catlike hiss. "Our goods first. Then you may treat your officer."

Snorting slightly, Archer shook his head. "I have your supplies in a transporter. If you return to your ship, I will have them transported there."

"And you expect me to believe that?"

"No, but if you don't leave, then I can just as easily have them transported into empty space and destroyed. Our spatial torpedoes were just recallibrated, and I've been wanting to test them out." Archer said levelly. He stared the other captain down, just as Phlox hurried through the bridge doors.

The alien captain turned his gaze on Phlox and spat, "Come!" to his officers. The aliens disappeared in a stream of molecules.

"Sir! They have weapons locked." Ensign Jacobsen, acting tactical officer, said, tapping a few keys.

"They're hailing us." Hoshi said seriously. Archer glanced first at her, then at Phlox. "Take him to sick bay. Ensign Falsky, assist the doctor." Then he turned to Hoshi and nodded. With a few keystrokes, the alien captain's face appeared.

"We have weapons locked on your warp reactor. Give us the supplies, or we will destroy your ship." He half-hissed.

Archer pressed the comm button on his armrest. "Commander Tucker, beam the crates unto the alien ship." He said. On the corner of the viewscreen, four four-foot cubes appeared by the captain's feet. His officers quickly dismantled the crates. The captain glanced at the contents, stared at Archer, then barked an order to a crewman.

Without further communication, the alien ship suddenly jumped to warp, leaving the bridge of the Enterprise in a confused silence.

Hoshi stood up quickly and turned to Archer. "Requesting permission to visit Lieutenant Reed, sir."

Archer looked her over before nodding. "You might want to bring something pineapple." He said with a grin. Hoshi smiled tautly and nodded back.

She burst into mess hall five minutes later, scrounging the shelves for something pineapple. When that plan failed, she burst into the galley itself and grabbed a whole pineapple, coring, peeling, and slicing it in record time. She poured the chunks into a clean bowl she hoped Chef wasn't going to use. He was too busy to notice, anyway.

Just a few minutes later, she burst into sick bay, clear bowl full of pineapple tucked under one arm. Phlox looked up from a scan he had just taken. "How is he?" Hoshi asked, setting the bowl down on the closest flat surface and walking next to Malcolm, who had cords coming out of his body, recording his vital signs.

"I can't say. He's lost a great deal of blood. I've done all that I can. It's up to him now." Phlox said, turning off his scanner. Then he burst into a grin. "But I'm sure he'll do all he can, too." He rushed to and from Malcolm's side, doing doctor-is stuff that she couldn't explain

"H...Hoshi?"

Hoshi whirled around and saw Malcolm looking at her through half-open lids. "Shh. Just go back to sleep." She said, running a cool hand over his sweat-streaked forehead. He shook his head and coughed, a little blood spattering his chin and cheek. Her heart twinged a bit.

"Hoshi... I just... w-w..wanted to say..." Malcolm coughed again, shaking visibly. Hoshi tried shushing him again, but he shook his head stubbornly. "I-I... like you... You know, _th-that way..._" He stuttered out, cheeks burning from either embarrassment or fever.

Hoshi stepped forward, about to reply that she liked him too, that was such a kindergarten thing to say, and that they should _totally_ have dinner when he recovers, when suddenly, the computer recording his vital signs flatlined.

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**A/N: !Ay, Dios mío! D:**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Is he actually dead?**

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"It is the saddest duty of a captain to have to bury one of his crewmates and comrade, especially this one. He has saved our lives multiple times, and he does it without thanks or praise. No one knows much about him, but we all care for him. So we bury him, and pray that he finds rest." Archer said sadly, looking at the faces of his crew. He nodded to Commander Tucker and Doctor Phlox. They closed the lid on the capsule and set it on the launching mechanism that would send him home.

Ensign Jacobsen launched the pod, and everyone watched it disappear in the distance, carrying its passenger home.

"Dismissed" Archer said, turning to Phlox, who was dabbing an eye with a tissue and trying to crack a joke at the same time. Archer grasped Phlox's shoulder. "You did all you could." He said. Phlox nodded and smiled slightly.

The second the first syllable left Archer's lips, Hoshi tore out of the room and down well-known corridors, bursting through a set of doors. "Sorry, the funeral took longer than expected!" She said breathlessly.

"That's fine. I'm just sorry I couldn't be there. After all, I owe that little bugger my life." Malcolm said, rubbing his side where one of Phlox's myriad pets had given its life to help seal the wound and increase blood production.

Hoshi nodded. "At least the knife didn't go too deep. Phlox was worried that it nicked something important. Like your British accent." She said playfully, grabbing the pineapple she kept in Phlox's non-disgusting fridge.

Malcolm laughed shortly before realizing that laughing made his side feel like it was on fire. He groaned slightly, clutching his side and breathing deeply.

Worriedly, Hoshi hurried to Malcolm's side. She tripped slightly and regained her balance, accidentally stepping on one of the cords connected to Malcolm's chest. The computer flatlined again, and Hoshi swore.

"Again?" Malcolm laughed in disbelief before remembering (again) that laughing hurt. Hoshi blushed.

"I never was very graceful..." She said with a shrug.

"You want to know a secret?" Malcolm asked, looking away and reddening slightly..

Hoshi leaned forward in interest. Malcolm looked back at her and grinned slightly.

"Neither was I."

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**A/N: In case you didn't catch it, the flatline from the end of the last chapter was caused by Hoshi accidentally stepping on one of the cords that monitored Malcolm's vitals**

**I got the idea for the " crewman's" burial when I watched the episode where Tucker "died" (No real spoilers there). I was thinking the funeral in the beginning would be for one of Phlox's pets. BUT NOPE! 0.0.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!**

**Read and review, please? =w=?**


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